Kell never got a word in edgewise, as Maris seemed more than content to carry on her conversations without a partner. He wondered if the old woman was a little daft, but her pale eyes flicked from target to target with all the speed and accuracy of a well-thrown knife.
Now that attention landed on Lila. “Aren’t you a trinket,” said Maris. “But I’m betting a devil to hold on to. Has anyone told you, you’ve something in your eye?” Her hand tipped, letting the tokens tumble roughly to the table. “The watch must be yours, my darling traveler. It smells of ash and blood instead of flowers.”
“It’s the most precious thing I own,” said Lila through gritted teeth.
“Owned,” corrected Maris. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, dearie. You gave it up.” Her fingers tightened on the cane, eliciting a crackle of ligament and bone. “You must want something more. What brings a prince, a noble, and a stranger to my market? Have you come with a single prize in mind, or are you here to browse?”
“We only want—” started Kell, but Alucard clapped a hand on his shoulder.
“To help our city,” said the captain.
Kell shot him a confused look but had the sense to say nothing.
“You’re right, Maris,” continued Alucard. “A shadow has fallen over London, and nothing we have can stop it.”
The old woman rapped her nails on the table. “And here I thought London wanted nothing to do with you, Master Emery.”
Alucard swallowed. “Perhaps,” he said, casting a dark look Kell’s way. “But I still care for it.”
Lila’s attention was still leveled on Maris. “What are the rules?”
“This is a black market,” she said. “There are no rules.”
“This is a ship,” countered Lila. “And every ship has rules. The captain sets them. Unless, of course, you’re not the captain of this ship.”
Maris flashed her teeth. “I am captain and crew, merchant and law. Everyone aboard works for me.”
“They’re family, aren’t they?” said Lila.
“Stop talking, Bard,” warned Alucard.
“The two men who threw the other overboard, they take after you, and the one guarding the door—Katros, was it?—has your eyes.”
“Perceptive,” said Maris, “for a girl with only one of her own.” The woman stood, and Kell expected to hear the creak and pop of old bones settling. Instead, he heard only a soft exhale, the rustle of cloth as it settled. “The rules are simple enough: your token buys you access to this market; it buys you nothing more. Everything aboard has a price, whether or not you elect to pay it.”
“And I assume we can only choose one thing,” said Lila.
Kell recalled the man thrown overboard, the way he’d called out for another chance.
“You know, Miss Bard, there is such a thing as being sharp enough to cut yourself.”
Lila smiled, as if it were a compliment.
“Lastly,” continued Maris with a pointed look her way, “the market is warded five ways to summer against acts of magic and theft. I encourage you not to try and pocket anything before it’s yours. It will not go well.”
With that, Maris took her seat, opened a ledger, and began to write.
They stood there, waiting for her to say more, or to excuse them, but after several uncomfortable moments, during which the only sound was the rattling of one trunk, the slosh of the sea, and the scratch of her quill, Maris’s bony fingers drifted to a second door set between two stacks of boxes.
“Why are you still here?” she said without looking up, and that was all the dismissal they got.
* * *
“Why are we even bothering with the ship?” asked Kell as soon as they were through the door. “Maris has the only thing we need.”
“Which is the last thing you’re going tell her,” snapped Alucard.
“The more you want something from someone,” added Lila, “the less they’ll want to part with it. If Maris finds out what we actually need, we’ll lose what power we have to bargain.” Kell crossed his arms and looked about to counter, but she pressed on. “There are three of us, and only one Inheritor, which means the two of you need to find something else to buy.” Before either of the men could protest, she cut them off. “Alucard, you can’t ask for the Inheritor back, you’re the one who gave it to her, and Kell, no offense, but you tend to make people angry.”
Kell’s brow furrowed. “I don’t see how that—”
“Maris is a thief,” said Lila, “and a bloody good one by the look of this ship, so she and I have something in common. Leave the Inheritor to me.”
“And what are we supposed to do?” asked Kell, gesturing to himself and the captain.
Alucard made a sweeping gesture across the market, the sapphire twinkling above his eye. “Shop.”
VII
Holland still hated being at sea—the dip and swell of the ship, the constant sense of imbalance—but moving around helped, somewhat. The manacles still emitted their dull, muffling pressure, but the air on deck was crisp and fresh, and if he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine he was somewhere else—though where he’d be, Holland didn’t really know.
His stomach panged, still hollowed out from his first hours aboard, and he reluctantly made his way back down into the hold.
The old man, Ilo, stood at the narrow counter in the galley, rinsing potatoes and humming to himself. He didn’t stop when Holland entered, didn’t even soften his tune, just carried on as if he didn’t know the magician was there.